


When the Lights Go Out

by theplaidprincess



Category: The Walking Dead (TV), The Walking Dead - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Fix-It of Sorts, Nightmares, Team Delusional, bethyl
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-16
Updated: 2015-10-28
Packaged: 2018-04-26 14:38:46
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,050
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5008561
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theplaidprincess/pseuds/theplaidprincess
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Takes place right after Beth and Daryl leave the house in the cemetery. AKA Coda never happens.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Road

Beth never did like the dark. She was more of a morning person, someone who smiled at the first peak of sunlight shining through her window in the morning. The darkness had never been her friend. When she was little, her daddy turning off her bedroom light had been the scariest thing little seven-year-old Beth could imagine. The fact that being scared of the dark was the only thing Beth had had to be afraid of was nothing short of a miracle. And little eighteen-year-old Beth would give her right arm to have her only fear be the dark again. She was afraid of so many things now. She was afraid of the dead, the dead that opened their eyes after their last breath and hungered for human flesh. The dead that she now called walkers. She figured that by calling them walkers she dehumanized them a bit, made them seem like something not human, something…other. The dead that were currently lumbering after her, tripping over themselves in an attempt to eat poor little Beth alive. See, that didn’t sound quite as nice as “walkers.”

They snarled and moaned as they chased her through the cemetery surrounding the church her and Daryl had been staying in. Daryl. She couldn’t think about him right now. She needed to survive.

The pack of walkers was gaining on her. Her ankle ached as she pounded on forward, pushing through the pain. She could almost hear Maggie behind her, shouting at her to just keep moving. The pain shot through her leg as she took step after agonizing step. Faster, she thought. You have to be faster.  
She tripped. The dark of the night had obscured the long black road stretching out in either direction and Beth had tripped over the edge of it. The walkers were on her in an instant. Beth kicked as a walker with a man bun pulled on her messed up ankle. Beth kicked hard with her other foot, breaking the walkers hold, she sat up and stabbed down hard with her knife. It made a sickening crunch as it lurched into the walker’s skull. Pulling it out quickly, she jumped to her feet. Well, her foot, as the twisted ankle wasn’t really capable of holding her weight. Beth ducked as another walker lunged for her, stabbing upwards and slightly back, she ended the second walker’s miserable existence. Glancing at the walkers, Beth almost laughed, she had always loved man buns. A third walker grabbed for her and Beth shoved it back, knocking it off balance before she stabbed the killing blow into its skull. 

Beth wiped the splatter of blood and unidentified bodily fluids off her cheek and observed the area around her. Apart from the screaming of the cicadas and the distant sounds of unholy moans, it was silent. She needed to find a place to wait for Daryl. He was coming to meet her. He would survive. He had to. Looking around, the options were slim. All the trees were huge, with climbable branches starting way higher then she would ever be able to reach. Beth loved climbing trees. Back on the farm, before the zombies had taken over the earth, Beth had spent hours climbing the trees. Her favorite tree was the one right in the front yard. A big sprawling oak that had been there since she was a little girl. Beth squinted back towards the house, trying to make out any shapes. 

A branch cracked and Beth whirled, knife at the ready. A shape reached for her and Beth tensed. She heard the moans now. The walker lunged for her and Beth swiped at it. She missed. She could feel its hands on her, grasping and scratching. Beth swiped her knife down. It met with slight resistance as she chopped off the poor walker’s hands. Her next swipe went straight down into the creature’s skull. An arrow thudded into the walker’s temple only milliseconds later. Beth turned and breathed a giant sigh of relief.

“Daryl,” the name rolled off her tongue, little more than a whisper.

Daryl nodded silently. Something glinted in his eyes, and Beth could’ve sworn it was something akin to relief. Grinning, Beth practically ran the few steps between them and leaped into his arms, slamming into his chest forcefully. She leaned her head against his blood covered chest and burrowed close.

“Thank god,” She said into his abdomen.

A strangled grunt was the only audible response.

“Admit it, you’re happy I’m alive,” Beth smirked.

Daryl paused for a second, his face blank, “We need to go.”

Smiling, Beth grabbed his hand, “Well come on then.”

Daryl looked at her a second longer than was comfortable, and then glanced down at her ankle and raised an eyebrow.

“Its serious piggy back time again ain’t it?” He asked.

Not waiting for a response, Daryl turned around, ready to catch her. Beth crawled onto his back, and squeezed his shoulders. Underneath the smell of death that saturated the two of them, Daryl smelled like stale cigarettes, the woods, and a little bit like old cracked leather with a splash of moonshine. In other words, Daryl smelled like heaven. Soon enough, the two of them were surrounded by the protection of the trees, and the dark didn’t seem quite so scary to Beth. 

When she was little, her daddy had tried everything, from night lights to monster spray, but the only thing that ever called her down had been his presence. Daddy would grab his bible and read from the psalms until little Beth finally surrendered to sleep. Then the morning would arrive, Beth would wake up to the bright light of the sun, and she would forget the terror of the night before.

Daryl stopped walking. 

“Good a place as any,” he said as he set her down.

Beth didn’t know how long they’d been walking, but she had to admit that she was ready to sleep. She set her injured foot on the ground and put a little weight on it, wincing slightly. Daryl’s eyes followed her, never once glancing away. Beth could almost swear that she saw concern in them. Beth cleared her throat and Daryl looked away.

“Let me look at that ankle,” Daryl said.

Beth cleared her throat and sat down. She reached for her boot and tugged lightly on the stained leather. Pain shot up her leg. Beth grit her teeth and tugged again. The pain was worse this time. Daryl knelt in front of her. His knife in one hand and her injured foot in the other, he glanced up at her, avoiding her eyes. Gently he wiggled the boot. 

“I think I might’ve hurt it again on the run to the road,” said Beth. 

“Mmhmm,” Daryl responded.

A beat passed as Daryl poked and prodded at her ankle.

“Keep it up while you sleep. See if the swelling will go down on its own,” Daryl said. 

Beth nodded, “That’s what daddy would say to do.”

Daryl’s shoulders lowered by a fraction of an inch and he looked down at his boots.

“I’ll take first watch,” he said.

“Promise you’ll wake me up when its my turn?” Beth smiled, raising one eyebrow. Nodding, Daryl grunted in response, one side of his lip twitching upwards. Beth closed her eyes. Daryl never had been one to talk more than was necessary. Hell, the first time Beth had even heard him say more than what was imperative to the current situation he’d been half drunk on moonshine. Even then, he’d cussed her out and pissed indoors before getting at what he was truly feeling. 

Smiling with her eyes closed, it was all too easy for Beth to fall right into sleep.

…

“Beth! Come on honey, its time to wake up” a voice said from above her. 

Beth’s eyes opened. 

Maggie grinned, and the morning light off the window hit her teeth and made them sparkle. Maggie’s pajama t-shirt was clean, so clean you could almost see the spot where the generic sizing sticker had been pulled off. The smell of chocolate chip pancakes and bacon infused the air with heavenly aroma. Glancing around, Beth saw the familiar trappings of her room, the big window looking out on the farm, the drawings and pictures posted up on one wall, and the light yellow walls she’d painted one her fourteenth birthday. With her grin splitting her mouth open wide, her teeth dazzling, and her short dark hair going every which way, Maggie was a sight to behold, outlined against the demure pale yellow of the walls.

“Aren’t ya excited to see me?” Maggie said, “Or has your new boyfriend stolen all your enthusiasm?”

Laughing, Beth reached up and threw her arms around her sister.

“Of course I missed you!” Beth exclaimed, “I missed you so damn much Maggie.”

“Aw look at you, all grown up. You even say adult words like damn now,” Maggie teased, a glint in her eye. 

“Oh shut up why don’t you,” Beth said as she smacked her arm.

Beth heard the sound of Herschel’s uneven steps before she saw him in the doorway. One of his pants legs was cut off at the knee, allowing his worn prosthetic leg to show through. His beard was neatly trimmed, and the cane that supported him had a bible verse carved along the handle. Beth could just barely make out the reference. Isaiah 57:1-2. Beth’s heart leapt, and tears filled her eyes, but she wasn’t quite sure why.

“Daddy…” she said quietly.

“Oh doodlebug, what are those tears for?” he asked. 

“Beth? Honey what's wrong?” Maggie asked, placing a hand on Beth’s arm. 

Looking down, Beth noticed that her hands were filthy. Maggie’s nails were cracked and chipped, and her arms were covered in jagged scars. Dirt looked like it had seeped into every possible crevice along her fingers and a dried red substance was splattered everywhere. Even the diamond ring on her finger was dimmed by filth. Beth’s head drifted to the side and she looked up at Daddy.

And she screamed.

His head was sideways, held onto his shoulders by only a few strands of muscle tissue. Standing behind him was The Governor, laughing as he swung Michonne’s sword straight through the last bit of her daddy’s neck. Beth turned away and looked to Maggie.  
And screamed.

Maggie’s face was pale, bruised, and covered in congealed blood. Her mouth was frozen in a grin, the flesh eaten away around her jaw. Her eyes were dead, a nasty yellow color. She was moaning, reaching for Beth with her bloodied hands. Beth could feel her hands on her shoulders, gripping painfully hard as the shook her. 

“WAKE UP GODDAMMIT.”

Beth bolted upright.

Daryl was the one grabbing her shoulders. He was so close that Beth could see the panic lying in his shiny blue eyes. His breath smelled like tobacco and mint. Beth wondered briefly where the hell the mint had come from.

Beth was breathing hard and she could feel her lips shaking. Tears fell down her cheeks, dripping onto her shirt. Silently, Daryl pulled her close, wrapping his arms around her. She could feel the tense muscles running through his arms. His callused hands stroked her back rhythmically.

“It wasn’t real,” he said quietly, “Whatever you were dreamin’ about, it wasn’t real.”

Beth just cried into Daryl’s worn leather vest. She appreciated the fact that he was trying to help. She just wished he was telling the truth. 

Beth didn’t know how long they sat there like that, with her cheek pressed against his damp shoulder. All she knew was that now the sun was up and that she could hear the unmistakable sound of walkers near by.

“Do you hear that?” Beth asked.

She felt Daryl’s low answer more than she heard it.

“Yeah.” 

Beth took a deep breath and straightened herself. Daryl released her slowly, running his hands along her sides and reached up. Gently, he wiped away the remainder of her tears. Beth took a deep breath and smiled.

“I’m okay, I’m strong, I promise,” she said. Although, who she was trying to convince, she didn’t know.

“I know,” said Daryl.


	2. The Woods

Standing up, Beth reached out a hand and pulled Daryl to his feet. The two grabbed the rest of their small pile of supplies and Daryl turned his back too her. Beth climbed up without hesitation. Her ankle was still messed up. It throbbed every few seconds, her boot digging into it uncomfortably. 

Daryl started walking. His footsteps were practically silent. Beth had always wondered how he was so quiet. Even when they’d been back at the prison, Daryl would always sneak up on her. She’d be outside, singing softly to little Judy while she watched the gates, waiting for Maggie or Glenn or Michonne or even Zach, whoever’d gone out on a run last. And next thing she knew, Daryl would be there, tapping her on the shoulder and asking to hold lil’ ass kicker. 

Beth figured it was all those years spent hunting and tracking. 

Daddy had never been one for hunting, trips to the shooting range, sure, but her daddy had never had the stomach for killing animals. “Why would I kill one of Gods creation when there’s no need?” He would say. 

She’d only gone hunting once. It was with her first boyfriend, Ethan, and she had begged her daddy to let her go. She’d said that she was fifteen and more than ready to go hunting with her boyfriend. It had been her stepmother who’d finally convinced Herschel that it would be alright.

When she’d finally set out with Ethan, Ethan’s dad, and Ethan’s uncle, she’d been more than a little disappointed. All the two adults had done was set the two of them in a blind and headed off to their own camouflage tent with a cooler full of beer. 

While Beth was focused on scanning the area around them, searching for possible animals, all Ethan had wanted to do was make out. Ethan had been so loud that Beth tried kissing him just to shut him up and keep him from scaring all the deer away. Needless to say it didn’t work. When, against all odds, a deer did happen to wander by, Beth had shot, hitting it square in its hind quarters.

The deer ran but collapsed close by. Close enough that the two were able to follow the trail of blood and catch up to the poor animal. Ethan puked at the sight of the deer’s mangled leg. The deer bled out in front of them. Ethan’s dad and uncle had been excited, celebrating the death of the animal. Beth went home and cried herself to sleep that night.

Altogether Beth had been entirely unsatisfied with her first hunting experience.

Daryl stopped walking and set Beth down. Striding over to a nearby tree, Daryl leaned over and picked up a huge stick. Knocking the leaves and dirt all along it, he set it upright, 

“About your size ain’t it?”

Beth grabbed the stick, it was smooth where she clutched it. Reaching almost to her shoulder, the stick was perfect. Beth smiled and nodded quickly. 

“It’s perfect,” Beth said.

Adjusting herself, Beth took a couple of steps using it. The stick took most of the weight off her injured ankle. 

“That should hold until we can find a place to hole up for a while,” Daryl said, his voice a low growl.

Daryl’s voice was deeper than any man’s voice Beth had ever heard before. It was raspy, low, and sounded just a little bit like honey covered in gravel. Daryl was almost the human personification of a bear or a wolf, and Beth wouldn’t be surprised if she heard that he’d actually been raised by one of the two species. 

“It will.” Beth’s voice belayed a confidence she didn’t quite feel.

“We’ll head north, towards the train tracks. If anyone survived at the prison, that’s where they’d go,” Daryl’s voice rolled.

“They’re alive. I would feel it if they weren’t.” Beth looked over at Daryl, “And you know I’m right. So don’t you try to tell me I’m not.”

Daryl snorted, “We’re headin’ to the train tracks aren’t we.”

“Yeah but you think its hopeless. It’s not. You’ve just got to have a little faith is all,” Beth said.

“Whatever you say, sunshine,” Daryl said as he kicked a rock out of his path.

By the time they reached the tracks, the sun was low in the sky and the cicadas were screaming. The forest was never really silent, Beth noticed. There was always something making noise that wasn’t human. Whether it was walkers or bugs or random wild game. 

Daryl crept up to the tracks, scanning the area.

“Looks clear enough,” he said, “But its too dark to check for tracks, we’ll have to stay here for tonight.”

Beth nodded, “Okay, I’ll start scavenging for firewood while we look for a spot to settle in.”

“Don’t bother. A fire could attract all manner of assholes and its too damn hot tonight anyways,” Daryl interrupted.

“Wow, no need to be all surly about it,” Beth said.

“I ain’t being surly,” Daryl muttered.

“It ain’t that hard to just be nice to people,” Beth muttered back.

With a sound halfway between a snort and a humorless laugh, Daryl turned around and stalked back into the woods.

Beth crossed her arms and took a breath before she followed him. Daryl stopped a couple hundred yards up ahead and waited for Beth to catch up. 

“We’ll stop here,” Daryl said, “Start fresh in the morning.”

With no fire to make, all the two had to do was sit. Beth opened her backpack, she’d filled it with as many supplies as she could before she’d bolted for the road. She was rather proud of the amount she’d managed to grab. Daryl leaned over and rummaged around. After a few seconds of searching, he pulled out a can of chili, and opened it. Beth pulled out a piece of packaged beef jerky and started eating.

“Merle loved beef jerky,” Daryl said after a few minutes of silence, “Couldn’t ever stand to eat chili though.”

“I’m sorry,” Beth said, “About Merle I mean.” 

Daryl looked at the ground and focused on his empty chili can, “You didn’t know him.”

“I know how much he meant to you though. I don’t know how I’d go on if something happened to Maggie,” Beth said quietly.

“Merle wasn’t like Maggie,” Daryl said, “Not even damn close.”

“Yeah but he was your brother,” Beth said, “I know he was an asshole and what he did to Glenn wasn’t right, but he had to have the capacity for good. We all do.”

“Yeah whatever. Go to sleep sunshine,” Daryl said.

Beth placed her backpack behind her and used it as a pillow. Closing her eyes, she let the sounds of the forest lure her into sleep.

…

Judy wouldn’t stop crying. Beth had checked her diaper, she wasn’t hungry, and she didn’t seem to have a fever. Beth was walking back and forth in the empty cell block, rocking the squirming, crying baby. Singing softly, Beth tried to calm her.

“Please Judy,” she said quietly, “Just calm down sweetheart.”

“Did you try feeding her?” Carol asked from the doorway.

“Yeah, she just knocked the bottle away,” Beth replied. 

Carol walked over and reached her arms out, “Let me hold her for a minute.”

Beth passed her over. Judith just started crying louder. 

“Oh come on now lil’ ass kicker. You don’t have anything to be crying about,” Carol frowned playfully at the child. Rick bolted into the room.

“Judith?! Where is she?” He said frantically. Seeing her, he sprinted forward and pulled her gently out of Carol’s arms. Judith immediately ceased crying. Rick’s whole body relaxed as he cooed at the now smiling baby.

“I heard her crying. I thought something was wrong,” Rick said. 

“She was probably just missing her daddy,” Carol said.

Beth looked around, the kitchen was full of people. Beth couldn’t quite tell who they were. Probably some of the new group they’d taken in. 

“You’re probably right,” Rick said, looking directly at Carol for the first time since he’d seen Judith, “You did the right thing Carol.”

Beth frowned, something about his words didn’t quite fit. “You were trying to protect us. To protect Judith,” Rick continued.

Sitting at the table behind Rick, Daryl looked up from cleaning his crossbow, “Lil’ Ass-kicker,” he mouthed silently and winked.

Screams broke through the air and two figures spilled into the room. It was Karen and a guy Beth had never actually talked to before, she thought his name might be David, covered in blood. They were dead, their skin scratched away from their cheeks and their eyes swollen, congealed blood frozen in place, dripping from their eyes, noses, and mouths. The moaned as they stumbled in. 

Carol placed a blood covered hand on Beth’s shoulder. Judy laughed while Karen leaped forward, taking a bite out of Carols shoulder. Judith kept laughing as Rick looked at her, tickling her stomach with lifeless hands, eyes yellow and dead, with blood dripping from his mouth.

Beth screamed.

The lights went out and when they blinked back on seconds later, Beth was alone. She was standing in the prison yard, with the sun shining against the tall green grass. One fence was down, and walkers were stumbling blindly around her. They ignored her. Beth walked towards the gate, avoiding the walkers as she went.  
Stumbling over something in the grass, Beth tripped and fell. Landing on her hands and knees, Beth turned to see what tripped her. Carl’s body was laying in the grass, a bullet hole straight through the middle of his forehead. His blue eyes were open, staring straight at her.

Beth scrambled backwards. Straight into another body. Beth rolled frantically to her feet.

Organized in neat rows, the bodies stretched for miles. Beth looked at their faces, each one with a bullet hole straight through their foreheads. Carl, Tyrese, Glenn, Maggie, Carol, Daryl, Michonne, Hershel, Sasha, and Rick, holding the tiny swaddled form of Judith. The bodies kept going, holding the faces of everyone she loved.  
Beth screamed, and the sound echoed through the field.

The walkers turned and all at once, they swarmed her. 

“Beth?” Daryl’s body sat up and looked at her. The bullet hole gone, he looked normal.

“Beth, wake up,” Daryl said, “It’s just a dream sunshine. You’ve got to wake up. Come on baby girl, it’s not real.”

Beth opened her eyes.

She was laying on her side, staring off into the forest. She could hear the bugs, the bugs that were constantly making noise. She could feel Daryl’s hand on her shoulder, gently shaking her.

“Beth?” He asked.

“I’m awake now,” Beth said. 

Beth rolled over to face Daryl. 

Daryl nodded at her from where he was crouched, never taking his hand off her shoulder. Beth sat up and leaned against the tree behind her. Reaching up, she wiped away the few stray tears on her cheeks. Daryl moved out of his crouch smoothly, sitting next to her. Beth leaned into him, and tried to stop shaking. Daryl’s arms were awkward as they went around her, slow and jolting. Beth could smell the cigarette and leather combination that always accompanied Daryl. Beth leaned into him more, turning her head into his shoulder, breathing it in. 

Daryl sat stock still, never fidgeting or moving. The only movement Beth could feel was of his smoky mint breath and his steady heartbeat. Beth could see the first signs of morning through the trees. The birds were chirping louder than usual and the cool morning air was thick with moisture.

“We should get an early start,” Beth said, “Since we’re both up already.”

“Yeah,” Daryl replied.

They walked silently towards the tracks. Daryl kept his arm around Beth, supporting her as they walked. In Beth’s other hand she used the walking stick, and between the two supports, she kept almost all the weight off her dully aching ankle. 

The tracks looked the same in daylight. Dull metal stretching on for miles in either direction. Surrounded by woods on both sides, the track seemed to be a piece of civilization hidden in the wilderness. Daryl searched the ground around the tracks, examining the foliage. 

“There’s nothin’ here, we’ll follow these, away from the prison,” Daryl said.

“Okay, maybe there’ll be something up ahead” Beth said.

“Maybe so,” Daryl said, but Beth could see the doubt hiding in his eyes.


	3. The Mess

They’d been walking for miles without incident. It was just about mid day, and the tracks were blessedly boring to walk along. Beth’s ankle was throbbing with each step, sending pain through her leg. She winced as she tried to forget about it. She’d even resorted to playing games to try to take her mind off of it.

“I spy something green,” Beth said as she smiled.

“That tree,” Daryl said.

“Nope,” Beth said.

“That tree,” Daryl said, pointing to a particularly big one.

“Nope.”

“The grass.”

“No.”

“Is it a tree?” Daryl asked.

“Could be,” Beth grinned.

“If it’s a damn tree we already passed again,” Daryl muttered.

“It’s not, I promise,” Beth said.

“That bush?”

“Yeah, now it’s your turn Mr. Dixon,” Beth said with a smile.

Daryl was quiet for a minute before he responded, “I spy something spoiled and blonde.”

Beth smacked him on the arm, but couldn’t keep the smile off her face, "That’s just too easy. Me.”

Daryl looked at her out of the corner of his eye and his lip twitched, “Your turn sunshine.”

“Alright, I spy a crossbow wielding redneck with a heart of gold,” Beth said.

Daryl’s smirk vanished and Beth could’ve sworn she saw a hint of red flush his cheeks. Daryl reached up with one arm and scratched behind his ear. He made a strangled sound in the back of his throat, something between a grunt and a laugh.

Then something changed, Beth saw Daryl’s good mood flee, and suddenly he was tense, ready to fight with his crossbow at the ready. His voice was terse when he spoke next.

“I spy something dead,” Daryl said.

Daryl pointed towards a pack of walkers less than a mile up ahead. There were more than Beth could count. The walkers filled the space between the trees, covering the train tracks completely. Daryl grabbed Beth by the hand and pulled her into the woods.

“Maybe we can get around them if we cut through the woods,” Daryl said.

Beth looked down at her ankle and gulped. It had been getting steadily worse throughout the day. She didn’t know how long she would be able to keep up the faster pace. She could hear the herd of walkers behind them. Hopefully the walkers hadn’t noticed them yet. They stumbled through the forest, Daryl’s arm around Beth, holding most of her weight. Beth didn’t know if the walkers had noticed them yet and she really hoped it would be a while before they did. It wasn’t long before Beth’s foot made getting away difficult.

Beth searched the trees for shelter, something they could use to wait out the walkers, a miracle really. And then, she saw something in the trees ahead of them.

“Hey Daryl, what’s that?” Beth said, her words slightly broken by pants. There was a pause before he responded.

“Treehouse,” Daryl said gruffly.

“Uh, do you think we could hide up there?” Beth asked.

Daryl nodded and switched direction, pulling Beth along with him.

The treehouse was barely visible, painted dark green and consisting of a box like structure. A small plaque next to the doorway was barely visible. A single legless walker lay on the ground, its guts ripped out, reaching and snarling weakly. Daryl shot it promptly in the head. Beth removed her arm from around Daryl and hobbled over to the hanging rope ladder resting against the trunk of the tree.

It looked a lot taller up close. Beth started climbing, resting weight as lightly as possible on her injured foot.  
“Beth, look out!” Daryl shouted from behind her as a walker grabber her shoulder and pulled her down. The force ripped her hands off the rope and she fell backwards.

The walker, lacking upper level thinking skills, didn’t count on the weight of Beth and the two of them toppled to the ground. Beth rolled violently to the side and scrambled for the knife at her hip. The walker followed her, rolling into her. The ground obstructing the movement of her arm, Beth gritted her teeth and kicked her injured ankle into the ground, giving her leverage against the walker.

Finally feeling the firm weight of her knife in her palm, Beth pulled it out and swiftly stabbed down into the walker’s skull. Suddenly still, the walker’s head drooped onto Beth’s chest. Beth shoved the still mass of flesh off of her, surprised at how light it was. She sat up, wiping her knife against the grass. The gore left a smear of red against the pretty green of the forest floor.

Daryl was a few steps away, finishing off a long haired walker that had presumably shown up out of nowhere. Beth looked at the walker beside her. It was barely the same size as her, with dark hair, a round boyish looking face, and no flesh covering its teeth or jaw. It couldn’t have been more than fourteen when it died the first  
time. He was wearing a bloodied up Star Wars t-shirt and Beth couldn’t help but think that he looked a little bit like Carl.

Beth felt a chill run through her. She could feel nausea approaching, gripping her insides and churning them into unrest. She looked away. Daryl reached down and cut open the stomach of the walker he’d just killed, spilling it guts everywhere in the near vicinity. The smell reached Beth about the same time Daryl reached the second walker. It was horrid. Beth gagged, but refused to let her stomach remove its contents.

Grimacing, she looked up, “What in the actual hell are you doing Daryl Dixon?”

Daryl dragged the walker to the other side of the treehouse and repeated the gruesome process. The sound of the knife cutting into flesh made Beth grimace. Daryl walked back over and pulled the Carl lookalike away from the other two. After cutting up his remains he walked back over.

“Just get in the treehouse,” Daryl said.

“Why’d you cut into the walkers like that?” Beth asked.

Daryl looked past Beth’s shoulder, “Their smell will cover ours, keep the herd from trapping us up there,” Daryl said with a nod towards the treehouse.

“Oh,” Beth responded.

Beth moved towards the ladder and started up for the second time. Beth’s hands felt like fire had up and moved into her skin. The rope of the ladder felt like tiny little pieces of steel piercing and stabbing at her poor palms. Beth grit her teeth and moved up, one step at a time. She refused to look down as she climbed, only looking towards the entrance of the treehouse. She could the ladder tugging with each step she took, the slight given the wooden steps. The moans of the hoard were getting louder. Beth climbed faster.

When she reached the ledge, she put her hand over the edge. And yanked it back as she felt something solid and sticky grab onto it. She barely bit back a scream as something fell out of the treehouse, something that snarled and bit. Beth heard Daryl’s quiet curse right after the thing made a hard thump against the ground, and then the telltale zip of his crossbow.

Beth could feel her heart beating in her chest, the blood pounding in her ears. Beth glanced down at Daryl, who was still standing at the foot of the treehouse keeping watch.

“You alright?” Beth called down softly.

“Yeah,” Daryl said.

Glancing at the plaque next to the doorway, Beth pushed away a sinking feeling in her chest.

It read: **_Durin Family Hunting Treehouse est. 2005_**

Beth pulled herself up over the edge of the treehouse and observed the small room. It was enclosed on all sides, with a door on one end. Another room that was blocked off only by a tan curtain contained a toilet, small shower and sink. Beth turned the faucet on and was shocked to find it working. A mattress was pushed into the corner. A suitcase rested against the foot of the bed. A gun rack with one dusty rifle was mounted next to the door. Next to the mattress was a few closed boxes. Strewn across the top of the boxes was the remnants of a family. A ratty teddy bear was sitting on one end, staring at her, a few boxes of ammunition, some empty pop tart wrappers, an almost brand new journal, and a picture. Beth picked the picture up for half a second and set it back down.

“All clear,” Beth said and looked down to Daryl. He started climbing as she kept watch, her gun pointed out, ready to fire. Daryl pulled up the rope ladder behind him and pulled up the wooden panel to fill the empty space. As soon as he was up, Beth picked up the picture again.

It was a pretty family, all four of them dressed up in hunting gear. Even the little girl was adorned in a pink camo dress. The dad smiled through his well groomed beard and held his daughter with one arm. The mom smiled adoringly at the two of them, with her hand resting on the son’s shoulder. Beth flipped the picture over.  
Durin Family Hunting Trip 2011 was the only thing written on the back.

Daryl opened the door and stepped out, there was a small deck, with a few portable chairs. There was another ladder that led onto the top of the structure. It was empty, but for a few beer stains.

The moans of the herd were even louder now, Beth could hear the uneven stomping of their feet against the ground. Beth went out onto the deck and sat down. Daryl joined her. They watched as the walkers stumbled forward, mindlessly searching for their next meal. There were so many of them Beth lost count. They didn’t push or shove, they just stumbled on. Not one of them looked towards the treehouse twenty feet above them. Beth reached for Daryl’s hand and without a word, he took it.

The walkers kept coming, for miles in all directions.

“We should take that boot off now,” Daryl said after a few minutes, “Looks like we’re going to be here for a while.”

Beth agreed and tugged on the tough leather. Pain shot through her leg, no different from the last time. Daryl pulled out his knife and cut away at the leather. As soon as the pressure was gone, Beth’s entire body seemed to relax, and then tense as her foot began throbbing intensely. Pulling off her sock, Daryl pulled her foot into his lap. It was covered in bruises and looked to be about twice the size of her other foot.

“Son of a bitch,” Beth exclaimed.

Daryl gently moved her ankle around, rubbing the swollen areas tenderly.

“You shouldn’t talk like that. It don’t seem right,” Daryl said.

Beth rolled her eyes, “I’ll talk however I damn well please.”

“Yeah whatever,” Daryl raised an eyebrow, “Just saying it sounds weird coming from you.”

“You think I’m innocent don’t you?” Beth asked.

“Yeah,” Daryl said after a beat.

“I’m not. I’ve had boyfriends, hell, I’ve lived through the damn apocalypse,” Beth said.

Daryl barked out a laugh, “Just because you had one boyfriend, don’t mean you’re not innocent.”

Beth rolled her eyes, “You can think whatever you want Daryl Dixon, but I’ll tell you right now, if there’s one thing I’m not, its innocent.”

Daryl paused his foot massaging for a second and looked at her skeptically , actually in the eyes for once, and Beth felt like he was staring into her very soul.

“Whatever you say sunshine,” he said, “Now come on, let’s go in. I don’t think there’s any need for watch tonight.”

They stood up and Daryl swept Beth off her feet before she could move. Bridal style, he carried her through the door, careful not to hit her head or her feet against the doorframe. He sat her down on the bed. Beth glanced over at the bathroom and stood up again.

“They had running water up here,” Beth said quietly, “I think I’m going to take a shower.”

Daryl nodded in response, sat down, took out his crossbow, and examined it. Beth pushed herself to her feet and made her way into the tiny bathroom. She adjusted the knobs in the shower, trying to see if there was hot water. There wasn’t. After a few minutes of praying, Beth stripped down and stepped into the now lukewarm water. Better than freezing.

Beth tilted her head back into the stream of gradually heating liquid and smiled. She scrubbed through her hair roughly. A few bottled of soap sat in the bottom corner of the space and Beth picked each one up. The fish shaped bottle of tear free shampoo she left on the ground. Using small amounts of a shampoo boasting “Ocean Scent and Beach Waves”, Beth scrubbed the layers of dirt and muck off her body. Tinted water swirled around her feet before flowing gently down the drain. The water was hot enough to emit steam now and Beth rolled her shoulders back, and smiled at the pleasant buzz the water sent through her body. The last time Beth had taken a hot shower, she’d been at the prison. She couldn’t remember who had rigged up the showers, but they had been hot for at least ten  
minutes before the heat ran out.

Beth shut off the flow of water. She stepped out, and grabbed a tan towel that was hanging beside the curtain. Beth peaked around the curtain, Daryl was nowhere to be seen. Beth assumed he was outside. Laying on the bed in a haphazard pile was a jumbled set of clothes; jeans, a tank top, underthings, and a pair of socks. Beth  
strode over to the bed and hurriedly pulled the clothes on. She cursed when the jeans pulled against her foot.

The she flopped down onto the bed. She picked up the journal that was on the side table and opened it to the first page. Then she closed it. A journal was private, Beth had used one regularly on the farm and then later when they’d found the prison. She’d written everything in there, from what she’d eaten for breakfast to her deepest fears, hopes, and dreams. She’d confided everything in that journal and she’d had to leave it behind.

She’d left a lot of things behind. She’d left her step-mom, who’d been around so long Beth hadn’t really noticed the step part so much. She’d left Shawn, her big brother who was always around with the offer to beat up any silly old boy who broke her heart. She’d left her third serious boyfriend, the one who she’d thought she could spend the rest of her life with until the apocalypse took away her options for a time. She’d left Otis, who she hadn’t really known outside of church. She’d left  
Daddy, who had been her guide, friend, and teacher all wrapped up in a warm, loving package.

Sometimes places could take on personalities of their own, make themselves dear. The memories made there would stack up on one another, giving life to a place. The farm certainly had, and leaving it had torn Beth almost in two. The prison had taken on its own persona, which gave off an aura of safety and hope that made it feel like home for the short time she’d been there.

If someone had found her journal, she would want them to read it. She would want them to know who she was, what she’d lost. Beth picked up the small blue journal covered in a generic daisy print and opened it to the first page.

_DAY ONE_  
_Dear Diary,_  
_I’m not sure what day, month, or even what year it is, and so I will refrain from writing it here. I’ve decided to label this “Day One” because it is our first night since the end of the world where we have felt safe. It took us months to finally reach this cabin._  
_I’ve always wanted to keep a diary, and now seems like the perfect time to start. It’s the four of us now, me, Michael, my husband, and our two beautiful children Zane and Zoe._  
_I used to always laugh at my husband building this place. I have always been a glamper, he’s always been a hunter, and both our kids love treehouses. This must have seemed like the perfect place to bond as a family in his eyes. I always thought it was extravagant, but now I thank God for this safe haven._  
_I wonder if we are the last people alive. I’m sure there have to be others, but the people we’ve come across have been…different. Harder, blunter, the ones who are willing to survive at any cost. We learned very quickly not to trust people now a days. Anyway, today was a good day. Happiness is in small supply in this world, but I hope we can make the most of it, my little family._  
_Love,_  
_Haley Durin_

Beth quickly closed the journal. She could see them here, etched in every corner of the small space. The small dusty army guy forgotten in the corner, the crayon marks scribbled low on the walls, the soft powdery scent of baby powder, they all pointed to the last remaining pieces of a family.

Beth took a deep breath and wondered if she would leave as much of a mess behind as the Durin family had.


End file.
